


Officer Goodbody

by ilse_writes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Puns, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Crack, Deputy Derek Hale, Dick Jokes, M/M, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Stripper Derek Hale, Stripper jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: "Officer Goodbody! How nice of you to drop by!" Stiles wasn't aware that Jackson arranged a stripper for Danny, but he suddenly wants to bow down for the apparent greatness that is Jackson Whittemore. All those years of being groomed by Lydia have finally paid off, if he was willing to shell out the dough to pay for this top notch adult entertainment. Because a stripper with those looks can't be cheap. The guy hasn't even removed a single piece of clothing and Stiles is already hot under the collar. It might have something to do with the way his black leather jacket spans his shoulders. Or the way his pants cling to those muscled thighs."The name is Hale," the 'police officer' says.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 180





	Officer Goodbody

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this in a couple of hours and it is total crack. I was literally laughing while I wrote this. I am not sorry.  
> As long as you're here, enjoy this total wackjob of a story. Consider it a Christmas present, from me to you.

Danny is wearing a pink v-neck T-shirt that says 'I LOVE DICK' in big, bold letters. Considering he is marrying Richard in a week, Stiles should say that is a pretty good fit. It's topped off with a Christmas hat with lights in it, because it's two days before Christmas. Or, actually, Stiles thinks when he checks his watch, it’s just after midnight so it's the day before Christmas.

"Are those penis shaped buntings?" Isaac sidles up to Stiles, leaning heavily against his shoulder. He points his red cup towards the pink dicks that decorate the walls, his beer almost sloshing over the rim.

"Yup!" Stiles confirms proudly. "Scott and I found them at the party store, along with these!" He shows his friend the penis shaped straw, also pink, he is drinking from. Jackson made him something that's supposed to be a Piña Colada. It's either too heavy on the Piña or on the Colada, Stiles can't decide. After three sips it numbed his taste buds anyway, so it doesn't matter. "Beacon Hills has a long way to go when it comes to gays, by the way. All the best shit is made for girls! As if there aren't any dick loving guys in this world. Well, news flash! There are! Dicks are great!"

"You can pee standing up with them," Isaac gamely offers.

"Among other things," Stiles concedes, waving his cup around. He'll spare Isaac from waxing poetically about the merits of dicks. For a gay wedding there aren't even that many gay men around tonight, Danny has a lot of straight friends.

"They do clash a bit with the Christmas decorations." Isaac seems genuinely worried by that. The pink penises do stand out between the gold, silver and green of the other decorations.

"Jackson wouldn’t let us take the Christmas decorations down. By order of Lydia. So we had to work around it." Stiles takes another sip of his drink, the tip of the tiny penis on the straw touching his lips. He giggles a bit. Sue him, Jackson sure mixed him a stiff drink. "It's not my fault Danny is getting married on the last day of the year! It was hard enough to pick a date for his stag party!" Or get a place, this close to Christmas. Lydia gamely offered the use of her parent's holiday home, the place she uses as a house of her own most of the time. The lake house is covered from top to bottom in tasteful Christmas decorations, Stiles even found a pint sized Christmas tree in the upstairs bathroom. It's all very classy and trendy. And now there's penises sprinkled on top, courtesy of Stiles and Scott.

Danny's soon to be husband is having his party at Jungle and in a short while they'll be joining them there. Jackson arranged for some taxis to drive them, which is a good thing, because nobody wants to be the designated driver tonight. Usually, Stiles is the one to offer to drive, but Danny is the first of his friends to get married, this is his first stag party and he is well on his way to being full out drunk. As you should be, on a stag party. 

The doorbell rings. Stiles looks around if someone wants to open it, yet nobody reacts. Fine, he'll be the doorman then. He wanders over to the front door, which is a bigger trek than it is in the apartment he shares with Scott, or, hell, even in his parental home. On his way he keeps an eye out for somewhere to put his drink, yet every surface is either covered in Christmas decorations or is polished up so shiny Stiles wouldn’t dare to desecrate it with his plastic cup.

So Stiles opens the door, dick-decorated drink in hand. Only to completely forget about his drink when he sees who - or  _ what _ : Stiles' brain might be shortly forgetting everything that resembles decent manners - is at the door. Because  _ that _ is easily the hottest man Stiles has ever seen. The policeman has a jawline so sharp it could be considered a weapon and his perfectly groomed dark stubble should be illegal. On top of that, his pale, piercing eyes have Stiles forgetting his last name on the spot.

"Good evening, sir. I am -"

"Officer Goodbody! How nice of you to drop by!" Stiles wasn't aware that Jackson arranged a stripper for Danny, but he suddenly wants to bow down for the apparent greatness that is Jackson Whittemore. All those years of being groomed by Lydia have finally paid off, if he was willing to shell out the dough to pay for this top notch adult entertainment. Because a stripper with those looks can't be cheap. The guy hasn't even removed a single piece of clothing and Stiles is already hot under the collar. It might have something to do with the way his black leather jacket spans his shoulders. Or the way his pants cling to those muscled thighs.

"The name is Hale," the 'police officer' says.

"All  _ hail  _ the King!" Stiles exclaims promptly. He's feeling a bit giddy at the prospect of seeing the man sans clothes in a bit. "Or did you choose the name because of all the Hail Mary's people are saying in your wake?"

"H. A. L. E. Hale," the man repeats in a clipped tone, moving his jacket a bit to the side to show Stiles the name badge on his shirt. All that does is focus Stiles' attention on his pecs. He almost starts salivating at the sight.  
"Are you mr. Martin?"

"Martin? No, sir, no Mr. Martin here. There is a  _ Miss _ Martin, but she isn't here tonight. I think you're here to see Mr. Mahealani. Or Mahealani - Stokes, they're traditional like that." Stiles might be babbling, his brain mostly occupied with deciding which part of 'officer' Hale he'd like to lick first. He wonders if Jackson paid for a 'hands on' kind of show. Because he sure would like to get his hands on  _ all of that _ . "Or did Jackson only give you his name? Are you here for the Whittemore party?"

  
'Officer' Hale has eyebrows that have a language of their own. Right now they're telling him he is contemplating murder. Stiles might just let him, as long as he is allowed to  _ touch _ first he'll die a happy man.  
"Sir, there’s been a noise complaint."

"Oh, you're already in character?" Stiles nods his approval of such dedication. He also applauds the man's uniform, it looks very realistic. His dad’s deputies wear similar uniforms, only they don't top it with a tight fitting leather jacket, they just wear the warm but bulky jackets issued by the department. And they most certainly don't fill the uniform out like this. "Well, come on in,  _ officer _ ." Stiles opens the door wide to wave the stripper in.

The stripper cop steps inside, but freezes as soon as he has both feet inside. Stiles doesn't notice right away, he is in the middle of asking lewdly - although possibly not all that loud - if the man is carrying a  _ concealed weapon _ . Because of that, Stiles bumps into him after closing the door. He grabs the closest thing, the other man's arm, to keep from falling over. Because that was like bumping into a brick wall. God, this guy is built! Stiles adjusts his grip on the man's biceps, to get a better grasp of what he's working with. And it is. A lot. "Oh my god," Stiles can't help but say, because he may have found religion. "Talk about the strong arm of the law!"

When he looks up he stares right into angry eyes. The man's face is pinched and his eyebrows are most certainly very displeased. Startled, Stiles takes his hands away, lifting them a bit to show his innocence and taking a step or two back.

"You think I'm a stripper?!"

Stiles doesn't notice how he's about to be throttled, because he's distracted by his own empty hands. When did he put his drink down? And  _ where _ ? He turns his head this way and that way to try and spot the cup.

"Sir!" The stripper is suddenly in close proximity again. "How much did you have to drink?"

"Not enough, because I wasn't finished with my drink and now I can't find it anymore." Stiles tries to look around the broad shoulders in front of him. "Have you seen my drink?"

"Sir, I think you've had enough."

Stiles frowns at that. "I don't think you're in a position to tell me what to do."

'Officer' Hale puts his hands on his hips, emphasizing the gun in the holster on his belt. "I beg to differ."

"Hey! Are you allowed to have that? That looks pretty real!" Stiles eyes the gun warily. It's illegal for strippers to carry fake weapons, he's pretty sure of that. "And I'm legal. You can't tell me shit."  
This wouldn’t be the first time someone thinks Stiles isn't old enough to drink, despite being 23 years old.

"Sir, I advise you to be careful with your words. I'm of a mind to bring you in for contempt of the law."

Stiles snorts. "Oh please, the only one in danger of an arrest is you, for impersonating a police officer."

The angry eyebrows are back. Or maybe they never left. Stiles isn't sure, his focus is even worse than usual. His ADHD meds don't mix well with alcohol. If he even took them this morning. He was kinda busy between early preparations for Christmas Eve dinner and sprinkling dick themed decorations over the Martin's lake house.

"Sir, for the last time: I'm a deputy of the Beacon Hills sheriff's department. I suggest you start cooperating now."

"Oh please," Stiles snorts. "You're not a real cop!"

Stripper cop looks like he regrets that the police motto is 'to protect and serve'. He rather wants 'to strangle and kill'.

"No Beacon Hills cop looks like  _ that _ !" Stiles adds, eyeing the other meaningfully. "I mean it, man. You look practically sinful." Stiles winks, one of his better moves when he is hitting on someone. He has it on good authority that he has a very cute wink; Lydia's authority even, and that woman is never wrong. "And I'd  _ love  _ to sin with you, if you know what I mean." Okay, so his wink is more game than his talk. Whatever. 

Stripper cop looks flustered for a moment. The tips of his ears turn red, but that also might be the Christmas lights around the door that are illuminating him from behind. It's only for a second and then angry cop is back again. "What's your name?" he barks.

"Stiles, nice to meet you,  _ officer  _ Hale!" He is suddenly very determined to see this through.

"Stiles? What the hell is a Stiles?" Hale almost looks flustered again. Stiles is clearly not what he expected to find when he rang the doorbell. That's good, he can work with that.

"That would be me," he smiles, gesturing up and down his body. He's wearing a T-shirt that says 'All I want for Christmas is you'. It couldn't be more true right now. His Christmas wish list has been reduced to one item: officer Hale, preferably out of his uniform. Though Stiles would be happy to help him unwrap, when asked. "Are you about to lecture me on the state's penal code?" Stiles can't help but snicker at that horrible pun.

"That's it! You're coming with me!"

Before he can agree he'll gladly go home with the most gorgeous man he has ever seen, Stiles' front connects with the wood paneled wall. It's not a painful experience, although it very well could have been. Stripper cop is well aware of his own strength, even as he twists Stiles' arms behind his back.   
"Aw man," Stiles complains when the handcuffs click in place. "If I wasn't allowed to touch, you could have just said so. I promise I can be a very good boy." He tries to turn his head to look at the man behind him, so he can give him a disarming smile. 

"For the last time, I am not a stripper." Hale's tone is exasperated, a tone Stiles is well familiar with from his father and friends. All it shows him is that he is starting to grow on the supposed cop.

"But you're not a cop either," Stiles answers as he is turned back around. "I would know."

"Would you now?" Hale has a hand on Stiles' elbow, ready to take him away. It's a warm hand. And his thumb slips right up under the seam of Stiles' T-shirt sleeve.

Stiles nods fervently. "Where's your partner, huh? The sheriff never sends out his deputies alone."

"She is…" stripper cop starts to say before he clamps his lips together. "None of your business," is all he says then.

It earns him a very smug smile from Stiles. He's not very worried about this man not being a real police officer. Whatever he is, he doesn't think he will harm him.

"Stiles? What the hell is happening here?" Scott stumbles into the hall, red solo cup firm in hand. 

He's followed by Isaac, who yells back at the room. "Hey guys! Stiles is getting arrested!"  
That brings out most of the others, trying to look over each other’s shoulders to get a good look at what's happening at the front door.

"I'm taking you to the station," stripper cop says to Stiles, before he turns to their audience. "Turn the music down, people. There’s been a noise complaint."

Jackson mutters something about "that fucking old twat from next door", but he doesn't seem all that worried about Stiles getting taken away in handcuffs. Scott is, bless his heart. He crowds in closer, his mouth opening and closing as if he doesn't know what to say.

Danny does know what to say, the bachelor elbowing his way to the front of the room. A drunk Danny is a lot less polite. "Are you a stripper?" He turns back to his friends shortly. "Who ordered me a stripper?" When all he gets are confused faces, he turns to Stiles again. With all this turning he is doing it's a miracle he doesn't tip over. "Who's this?"

"Not a stripper, apparently," Stiles answers wittily.

Danny looks the cop over. "That's a shame," he says and he is so,  _ so _ right. "Who is he then?"

"My cousin Miguel?" That earns him an angry tug at his elbow.

"Party's over," officer Hale announces curtly, ignoring the shower of disappointed noises. Before he has opened the door to escort Stiles out, the cries have already changed to calls of going to Jungle. 

Someone drapes a hoodie over Stiles' shoulders. It's Scott. "Will you be okay?"

Stiles grins as he is led down the path to the driveway. There is a real squad car sitting there. Huh. "Don't worry, Scotty. I'm sure officer Hale and I can work something out." 

He's put in the back of the squad car, with one hand on his head and the other on his back, to prevent the hoodie from sliding off. How thoughtful.  
When the car drives off, Stiles tells the back of Hale's head he still doesn't believe the man is a real cop. "I know all the deputies and you're not one of them."

He doesn't expect a reply, though he gets it anyway. Short and gruff. "How can you be so sure of that?"

Stiles grins and leans back as far as his bound hands let him. "You'll see."

As luck will have it, his father is near the front desk when he is taken in. "Stiles? What are you doing here?"

He smiles widely at officer Hale before looking back at the sheriff. "Hi dad!"

A short while later they're all inside the sheriff's office: Stiles, deputy Hale - who started his new job last thursday, go figure - and deputy Reyes, who is Hale's partner. Stiles isn't handcuffed anymore, yet that doesn't mean he is not in trouble. He just isn’t the only one in trouble.

"Hale!" the sheriff calls out. "What were you thinking, going to a call alone?"

Deputy Hale is standing ramrod straight, his hands folded behind his back. He served in the army before he came here, Stiles learned from Gladyss at the front desk, when he used the distraction his arrival caused to quickly gather some information.

"Yes, Derek, tell us," Stiles needles. Because that is his name: Derek Hale. 29 years old and single. Thank you, Gladyss!

"Shut up, Stiles," the sheriff says before Hale can. "I'll get to you in a minute."

"Sir, Erica, I mean Reyes, she was…" Derek tethers off and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Smart move, Stiles thinks. His father doesn't like excuses, he knows from experience.

"Deputy Reyes, where were  _ you _ ?" The sheriff's attention is now on his young deputy. Erica Reyes has been a deputy for little over a year now. Stiles likes her. She is only a year older than him and she has a very sharp sense of humor.

"I was assisting Boyd, sir," she answers brightly, throwing in a charming smile. 

The sheriff isn't impressed. "With what?"

Her smile falters a little. "Stringing up some Christmas lights?" When her boss all but rolls his eyes she hurries to remedy it. "But I knew Hale would be fine, sir! I recognised the address, I knew it was Danny's stag party."

"My deputies never answer a call alone," the sheriff says gravely, giving both his deputies a stern look. "Not even when it's a simple noise complaint."  
Both officers nod seriously, Derek maybe more so than Erica. Stiles has a feeling Derek has a thing or two to say to Erica after the sheriff is done with them.  
"And you," his father says, turning his disappointed anger towards his son. "Why were you brought in in handcuffs?"

Stiles has the good sense to feel ashamed. He's sobered up a little and he is starting to feel the enormity of his mistake. "It was a misunderstanding," he offers lamely.

"Contempt of an officer. He thought I was a stripper." Derek Hale clearly has no trouble with throwing him under the bus. Erica can barely stifle her startled laugh.

"You thought what?!" The sheriff looks ready to explode.

"Thanks for that, dude," Stiles hisses at Derek. 

"Bite me," he gets back, the words quiet but annoyed.

"Oh, gladly!" Okay, not that sober yet.

"And don't call me dude."

"Hale! Stiles!" The sheriff is looking red in the face.

"Right, sorry, dad." Stiles pulls his shoulders up, looking contrite. "Honest mistake, really. I thought Jackson booked a stripper for Danny. Stag party, you know. Strippers are a bit of a staple for those things."

"And you thought you would start insulting the stripper? Who clearly wasn’t a stripper, I might add."

"Hey! I wasn’t insulting him!" Stiles bristles. "I would never insult someone who is just doing their job! I was complimenting him! On, you know…" Stiles flails a hand at the Greek god next to him. "His fine… everything."

Erica has more and more trouble to conceal her laughter. The sheriff is palming his face and Derek actually, honest to god, blushes. 

His father peeks over his hand. "How much did you have to drink, Stiles?"

He reels back, offended. "Why is everybody up in my grill about drinking tonight? I was at a stag party! You're  _ supposed _ to get drunk at those! And ogle hot strippers, I might add. I did nothing wrong!"

Stiles might be mistaken, but he thinks he sees Derek's shoulders shake with repressed mirth. Erica certainly can't hold it together anymore, she is sagged against the wall, laughing so hard she can't make a sound beyond some wheezing snorts. It's not pretty. Stiles wishes he had his phone so he could show Boyd later.

His father sighs deeply, shaking his head at his son. "What do you say, Hale? Do you think we can let Stiles off with a warning? Because honestly, I'm not sure if I wanna type up a report about this whole nonsense."

"That sounds like a good idea, sir," Derek says with a nod. His voice doesn't even waver. 

"You're still welcome for dinner tomorrow, of course. Or, hell, I guess that's tonight already. That’s if you still want to, after what happened. Stiles can be a lot of trouble, but he's a good cook."

Stiles pales when he hears that. "Wait, dad, you don't mean…?" His father has the habit of inviting his newest deputies over for dinner for Christmas, seeing as the new recruits often end up working over the holidays. Stiles knew someone would be joining them, he just didn’t know  _ who _ .

Derek Hale shows him a shark like grin before he looks at his boss again. "I'll be there, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by that Friends episode with Danny Devito.


End file.
